


Weird Emotions

by ActuallyAndroid



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyAndroid/pseuds/ActuallyAndroid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin really should have aimed that bolt a little better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weird Emotions

Henry was in the same tent as you.

Funnily enough, you only had yourself to blame.

During the Shepherd's last encounter with Risen, a stray bolt of thunder flew from your fingers, right past its target and into a bag of supplies. Several tents were burnt to a crisp as a result, meaning soldiers had to be packed like sardines for the night in whatever tents were left so that everyone would have a place to sleep. However, most of said people were engaged.

You and Henry were not.

Now normally, Frederick (conscientious as always) had a few spare tents stashed away somewhere, but the Shepherds had been harvesting recruits like nothing else lately. You yourself had been witness to the steady dwindling of resources. The army would arrive in town tomorrow morning to replenish their supplies, but until then, Henry needed a place to stay, and since everyone else seemed a little wary of spending the night with a Plegian psychopath, you took it upon yourself to give him space in your tent.

But perhaps that was an exaggeration.

There wasn't really any space in the tent.

Even though he was pushed to the other side, you could feel his calves were barely a shuffle away from yours, and his face inches from your shoulders. He could kiss your neck if he felt like craning his head far enough.

You couldn't sleep, and the fault wasn't in your lack of trust for him (Henry was good at following rules, and he'd never done something you'd expressed distaste over) but rather in the innappripriate intimacy of the whole situation. Tentatively, you turned around, hoping to scan his face for any intentions, but you had no luck; he'd had been asleep for at least half an hour now. His wispy white hair had fallen in shambles around him, gand a gently serene expression had settled on his face. The answer to it seemed obvious, but the question continued running through your head, untethered like a leaf blowing in the wind.

How could he fall asleep when you were still wide awake?

“Such a predicament,” you whispered under your breath, staring at his closed eyes.

“What was that, Robin?” he asked, and you shut your eyes out of reflex, although looking back on it, you supposed it would have done less damage if you laughed the situation off. “That's no good. I know you were staring.” His tone was amused, and perhaps a little patronising. You opened your eyes to see him smiling, and you were sure the grin wasn't on his face just a second ago - when he was still pretending to be asleep.

“Sorry, I just can't seem to fall asleep.” You tried not to let your voice betray your frustration, and it seemed to work, because his smile did nothing to falter. On the contrary, it grew into quite the indelicate grin.

“Hm. Well, you won't be able to fall asleep if you keep trying to stare at me," he said, and laughed at his own joke. There was a short silence, and you were not sure if it wasn't awkward because you were so tired – and your brain didn't care for such little luxuries, or because Henry didn't seem to acknowledge it and you just followed the cue. “There are hexes for that, you know,” he said, and you almost wanted to believe he wasn't joking.

“To send me to sleep?”

“Yep.”

You rubbed your eyes and once you opened them again, you realised his smile had slightly faded. Your curiosity wanted to take the reins, but you erred on the side of caution; Henry had the tendency to be unpredictable after all, and you'd prefer to let your trust waver than regret keeping it sturdy.

“Would they kill me?”

He chuckled quietly again and it was somewhat strange to hear it. He didn't seem like the kind of person to have an indoor voice, let alone an indoor laugh.

“Of course not. I wouldn't let that happen.”

The words were comforting, but it was still somewhat worrying - as if there was some pragmatic in them you weren't quite sure how to decipher. Like an emotion you found hard to translate into organised thoughts from the tone of his voice or the nature of his smile. You looked out of the tent for a few seconds, as if someone for whatever reason would intrude and interrupt the two of you.

Henry simply waited, patient, and content.

“Are there any side effects?”

He seemed pleased that you were taking it seriously, but in the dark of the night it was difficult to tell with accuracy.

“Just a little bit of dizziness and redness. Depending on the person there could be some hyperventilation. Oh, and there may be some weird emotions as well but that's pretty rare.”

“Weird emotions?”

“Yep, like frustration or anger.”

“Ah.”

You looked outside through the door of the tent again, and you were positive now that you were just doing it so you wouldn't have to make eye contact with him. For some reason, this whole discussion was making you very embarrassed.

“You know I'm pretty willing to try anything to get this situation over and done with.” You regretted the words as soon as they came out of your mouth, but Henry didn't seem to mind. He laughed again, and it eased you until you listened into it. Upon close inspection, it was a little louder, a little more disjointed, as if he was having to push the air out of his lungs.

“Sorry, that was --”

“Oh no, don't worry about it one bit. I'm sure you didn't mean it like that.”

You looked him in the eyes, trying your best to show your sincerity.

“No it was... I mean -- I'm sorry.”

He waited. You were sure that now even he could feel the awkwardness, until he spoke again and his tone of voice was untouched.

“So do you wanna go through with it?”

You didn't look out of the tent this time.

“Yeah.”

His smile got larger.

“Well… in that case I'm going to have to ask you to turn around.” It was a strange request but you complied, oddly without doubt. Perhaps you were doing it in the name of guilt, but at the time you couldn't care less. You twisted on the spot and looked to the other the side of the tent, as the wind pushed and pulled at the cloth, sending gasps of chilly air onto your bare shoulders.

You found yourself glad he was sharing your warmth, but before you could realise its implications, you could feel his arms wrap around your chest, and his face pressed against your shoulder. You tensed in surprise, and he leaned away a little.

“If the weird emotions get a itsy little bit much, just tell me.”

Well, that was certainly a way to put it.

'Weird emotions.'

“Henry is there something else to this?” you asked, and were not sure what you wanted the answer to be.

“There could be.”

You wanted to turn around to read his intentions again, but against all of your senses, you were quite enjoying the snug fit of your back against his chest – as it rose and fell regularly, betraying no nervousness.

“We're spooning," you said, but for some reason, your muscles relaxed and he took it as permission to nuzzle into you again.

“Oh yeah," he laughed, “I guess we are.”

His face was so close you could feel his breath against the skin in your neck. After a lack of response from you, he took to playing with your hair. He curled your strands around his fingers, and stroked your scalp, as if he was fondling with a cat or dog.

“You know, you might not like being in the same tent as me, but I really like being in the same tent as you," he said, and it seemed so sincere your heart wanted to twist into pieces. Like a fleeting animal too quick to catch, your breath escaped you, and you were not sure how to catch it again.

“Henry-” You begun, but you didn't have enough wind in your lungs to continue, and he was left hanging.

“How are the weird emotions holding up?”

He was laughing at you. Of course. You laughed as well.

“They're being very weird.”

“Want me to stop?”

You did not say anything for a little while, until you took hold of his hand and trailed your finger across it in circles.

“No.”

He chuckled for seemingly the hundredth time, and you wondered if he ever didn't find anything funny.


End file.
